


Thirty Thousand Gold

by Up_a_Creek



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Flash Fic, Mild Language, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29189928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Up_a_Creek/pseuds/Up_a_Creek
Summary: Shane's early afternoon drink is interrupted by Leah and her a bit too familiar wife.
Relationships: Leah (Stardew Valley)/Original Female Character(s), Shane (Stardew Valley)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	Thirty Thousand Gold

Marnie looked at Shane with more disdain than usual as he stumbled out of his bed a quarter past noon. He swerved to the fridge, plucking a can free from what remained of the six-pack he purchased the day before. She could mutter under her breath all she liked; Shane's head was killing him, and hair of the dog the only cure he knew. Shane flicked open the metallic tab with a clumsy fervor and hung his head back as he gulped down half the beer. He was breathless as he lowered it from his lips.

“ _What is wrong with me lately_?” Shane wondered to himself as his head pounded on like a wildebeest learning the drum. He used to go way harder before suffering a hangover. Hell, he spent the last year he was in college so shit-faced that he wasn’t even sure he had a last year in college. Never had so much as a mere tinge in his head back then. “Getting old,” he grumped out loud. Marnie raised a brow but went back to judging him in near silence rather than engage.

Refusing to loaf around the shop while his aunt was in a mood, Shane trudged outside. He brought a hand to his tender head, shielding bloodshot eyes from the merciless summer sun. It was a Saturday, so he had nothing better to do than sulk against a fencepost by Marnie’s cows. Not that the day of the week meant anything anymore. At one point, he’d at least held down a shitty dead-end job at the JojaMart. But that had been some time ago before the place closed its doors for good. Shane couldn't quite remember when exactly that was, and the pain in his head flared when he tried putting any sort of effort into remembering.

“Hello Shane,” a cheery voice made him flinch. From beneath the shade of his hand, Shane made out the artist who'd once rented the cabin just south of the ranch. The well-endowed one. Wait, was he allowed to notice that now that she was married?

Speaking of which, Leah was not traveling alone. Several paces behind her trailed Pelican Town's very own up and coming farmer. The tanned, muscular woman pushed her bastard in a stroller down the path from the old Marsh place. Shane’s gut twinged. That was harsh, even for him. Leah stopped in front of Shane, waiting for her wife and stepchild to catch up.

"What are you up to today?" Leah asked. She clearly didn't understand Shane's emphatic loathing of small talk. Or any sort of talk. He glared into her freckled face, and she readily threw her own eye contact right back at him. Her smile was effortless yet unwavering. Meanwhile, finally having caught up, her wife shrunk into herself at Leah’s side, gripping the stroller so tight that her knuckles glowed.

Shane caved. “Heading to the saloon. What else is there to do?”

Leah either chose not to play into his moping or was just plain ignorant. “Oh, there’s plenty to do on a day like today. We’re going to go stroll over to the library. Elliot is reading an excerpt from his book today. It’s free for anyone if you'd like to attend.”

“Leah,” the farmer tried to whisper, but her forceful voice pricked Shane’s ears. He could so vividly imagine her chiding his name like that, presumably as he made a fool of himself. The flower dance came to mind for whatever reason. “He’s not interested in that sort of thing.”

Shane wasn’t interested, but how the hell would she know that?

“I’m trying to be friendly to our neighbor. This is exactly why hardly anyone in town knows you.”

For the first time during the exchange, the farmer looked up at Shane, and he swore something clicked into place. The way her strawberry hair was knotted into two thick braids draping over her shoulders, probably smelling like her mint shampoo. The curved scar that slipped into her upper lip, like the moon behind clouds. Even the way she stood with one shoulder higher than the other. Always a little off-kilter, but never letting that deter her. It all clicked, and Shane could feel himself muttering out some sort of garbled nonsense.

And then it was gone.

The feeling of recognition was so short-lived that Shane doubted it was real in the first place.

Leah stared at Shane quizzically. And the farmer looked like she saw old Marsh himself rising from the grave. “Are you alright?” Leah asked him.

Shane shrugged and attempted to swing the attention elsewhere. “What’s that one’s name?” He gestured his nearly empty can towards the stroller.

Leah looked to her wife, not-so-subtly suggesting that she should be the one to answer as a sort of ‘pardon my earlier rudeness’ sort of way.

“Fritz.”

Shane peered down at little Fritz, who was old enough to be alert but not much else. Whoever the farmer banged before tying the knot with the artist must've had strong genes. The little guy didn't look much like her, with a poof of dark hair sticking up off his noggin. It almost looked violet under the sun. "I like that."

“I know.” The farmer pushed off with the stroller, shoved off really with the way gravel sprang up from beneath the tires. A pebble hit Shane’s ankle. Felt like a bee sting. Leah gave a short wave and then followed her wife. Shane watched them until they cleared the woods, deciding to face Marnie's wrath and grab another cold one from the fridge.

**Author's Note:**

> I have been struggling to write anything for a few years now, so it felt really good to get something written.


End file.
